Calling All Angels
by AutumnLilyDragon
Summary: Following Dean's death, Cassidy, Beatrice, and Jayden Winchester find themselves torn apart. Fearing that they'll never be whole again they drown themselves in their vices. But when the angels make themselves known, the Winchester sisters find themselves inexplicably drawn to them.
1. Chapter 1

**Calling All Angels**

Chapter 1

 _By: January Lily, Nixdragon, and Renny Autumn_

* * *

Everyone was gone.

In her twenty-seven years of life on his crappy earth, Cassidy Winchester had never felt so alone. Dean had died. Sam left. Beatrice left. Jayden left. That left Cassidy, the oldest of the Winchester triplets, sitting at Bobby Singer's kitchen table downing the last bit of hunter's helper she could find. The liquid burned as it went down her throat, but it wasn't like there was anything better to do.

When her glass was empty, she turned it upside down and looked at it. "Bobby!" Cassidy groaned. "We're out!"

There was no response.

"Bobby!"

A few minutes later, the Winchester's father-figure outfitted in his usual plaid shirt and baseball cap strolled into the kitchen. "What in the hell you yellin' for kid?" Bobby said rather gruffly.

Cassidy held up the empty bottle toward Bobby and gave him a sad puppy dog expression. He glanced at it and shook his head. "Then maybe you should get off your ass and go get some more."

Her bottom lip jutted out. "Please?" she asked sweetly, sounding much younger than the grown-ass adult that she was. Bobby just shook his head.

"Cassidy, this ain't you, kid. I know you're mourning Dean. We all are, but this ain't the way."

She narrowed her eyes at Bobby. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I haven't had the best of role models, now have I? _This_ was how I was _taught_ to cope with things." Cassidy picked up the empty bottle. "Good ol' John Winchester." Then she glanced up at Bobby. "And maybe, I even learned a thing or two about it from you."

Bobby swiped the empty bottle from her hands. "You're a mean drunk, Cassidy."

Cassidy leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "Another thing ya'll taught me."

Bobby tensed up. Her words stung, but he knew it wasn't _her_ talking. It was the alcohol. This wasn't the Cassidy he knew and helped raise. Standing a little straighter, he pushed his hands into his pockets. "I'm gonna leave before either of us says something we're gonna regret. When I get back inside, I expect you to be sobered up a little more."

With that Bobby walked out of the kitchen and headed outside. He didn't make it very far before Cassidy made a pop-shot comment about making sure to get more hunter's helper while he was out. Bobby responded by slamming the screen door a little harder than usual.

About ten minutes later, Bobby's phone rang. Reluctantly, Cassidy strode across the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Bobby?" a hoarse voice rasped.

Cassidy's brow furrowed. "No, this is Cassidy."

"Cassidy, it's Dean."

The man's words were like a punch to the gut. Dean was dead. He had died months before when the hellhounds had ripped him apart. Granted, he had been the idiot to sell his soul and his time had come, but that didn't make his death any less painful.

"Cassidy," the voice repeated.

Cassidy must have been more drunk than she had thought. She quickly hung up the phone and leaned against the wall, unable to say anything more. For a moment, she closed her eyes and held back the tears that threatened to spill. She wished she had never answered the damn phone.

Bobby poked his head inside. "Who was it?" Bobby questioned.

"Wrong number," Cassidy grunted.

Not asking any more about it, Bobby shrugged his shoulders and walked back outside. Cassidy grabbed a pair of keys to one of the trucks and headed out as well. After _that_ she was going to need more to drink.

* * *

Some people walked away when things went bad.

Jayden Winchester was a bit more… extreme.

Her phone rang as she stood leaning against her car atop a rather windy bridge, a stranger checking the bungee cord around her legs. She ignored the phone at first, using her hands to tighten her helmet and then the rest of her safety equipment.

She moved to the edge of the bridge and closed her eyes, enjoying the wind pounding against her, the thrill of waiting to fall, how all of it chased away the pain that her brother was dead and she didn't think she could face a monster without his voice in the back of her head bringing the shock of it right back.

The phone continued to ring.

She rolled her eyes.

If it was Sam again she was gonna punch him, the extra foot he had on her notwithstanding. She would jump off this bridge, get pulled back up to her car, and drive off to find him-then she would punch him. She already knew what his apology would sound like. He'd said most of it while she was leaving.

Then again, she'd been shouting 'I don't see this. I see nothing. I don't see you.' while he'd been apologizing so maybe she'd only be able to predict half of what he said. If that demon he'd been… 'canoodling' with called then she would _murder_ Sam instead.

No, don't think of that. Think of the wind and the fall.

"Ready, Miss Winchester?"

She nodded and felt hands against her back, ready to push. Though her phone was now ringing a third time...

"3…"

She had time to check the number, right?

"2…"

Yeah, she had time.

"1…"

Jayden went on autopilot and had the phone opened against her ear before she could realized what she was doing.

"Wait- _sh**!_ " She yelled.

"Go!... Wait- _sh**!_ " The instructor yelled.

But Jayden was falling.

And all Dean heard through the phone was his sister's scream and then a loud _smack._

* * *

The youngest Winchester triplet had her own way of coping.

Beatrice eyed the tall brunette bartender and smirked. She knew he'd been watching her as she danced with every guy in the first dive bar she'd found in this spit-in-the-wind town.

The rest of the men were easy pickings, not really a challenge. What Beatrice really liked was the thrill of the hunt. And the bartender would make a _very fine_ trophy. She shook her ass to the music and let the vibes take all her cares away.

When she'd finally stopped to catch her breath, she headed toward the bar, very purposefully swaying her hips back and forth like a pendulum.

She locked eyes with him and continued the stare as she stepped up to the bar. She swore he licked his lips as she approached.

Smiling seductively, she batted her eyelashes and leaned over the bar.

"I'm not sure what I should order. Have any suggestions? I need something strong enough to forget everything, even my own name."

The bartender, whose name she now noticed was Ethan (at least according to the nametag), leaned closer to her, looking her up and down.  
"Darlin', if you wanna forget your own name, I've got four words for you. Sex on the Beach."  
Playing coy, she waved a hand in front of her face, fanning herself.  
"Well that's exactly what I need, then."

As he turned to make her drink, Beatrice glanced at his long, lean frame. Suddenly the whole place felt hotter. She glanced around the room at the mass of bodies and watched people lose themselves in the music and dancing.

A man in the corner of the room caught her eye. She couldn't see his face, but his tall frame and short, crew-cut hairstyle made her stomach clench. She almost moved to run across the room and throw her arms around him, but she shook her head to bring herself back to reality.

It wasn't Dean. It would _never_ be Dean.

She took a few deep breaths in an attempt to keep herself from crying. She'd spent the first few weeks after Dean had been dragged to hell crying and drinking with Cassidy. But she soon grew tired of dredging up her feelings every day. It was easier not to think about Dean at all.

But then someone would look like him.

Or a stranger would have a deep, comforting voice like his.

And all those feelings would come rushing back.

And Beatrice needed to forget them. She turned back to the bartender, eyes blazing with passion. He'd written his phone number on the napkin, and winked as he handed her the drink.

"Not quite as good as the real thing, but a hell of a lot cleaner."

She took the glass and, despite the tiny voice in the back of her head screaming at her to use caution-especially when drinking alone, downed the entire thing in one breath.

Ethan threw her a shocked glance, as though he'd never seen someone finish off a glass of hard liquor like a shot before, and shook his head.

Beatrice, feeling freer than ever, hopped onto the bar and leaned across it, gently pulling on Ethan's shirt, bringing him close.

She could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and hers was racing along with it. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and brought his lips to hers.

Their tongues melded together as she lost herself in the kiss. She pressed her body against his, adrenaline racing through her bloodstream.

Yes, this was exactly what she needed right now.

It was even better than the booze.

As Ethan broke the kiss, he breathlessly held his pointer finger up, asking her to wait a moment.

She tried to be patient as she waited for him to talk to the other bartender on duty that night.

He was smiling as he made his way back to her, taking her hand and leading her out from behind the bar. She mentally thanked herself for reserving a room before she'd headed to the bar that night.

She dragged him to the room, barely making it through the door before he kissed her again.

His breath was hot against her skin as he broke away from her mouth and moved his lips down her neck. She gripped tightly to him, nails digging into his skin. In one swift move, he removed her shirt. She frantically moved to work the buttons on his shirt, her body burning.

Just as she yanked the shirt over his head and paused to admire the firm, lean abs in front of her, her phone began to vibrate and ring.

She huffed in anger and tried to mute the phone, but was unable to reach it while tangled up in Ethan's arms.

She detangled herself from him and whipped the phone out of her pocket, instinctively moving to silence it so she could get back to what she was doing. But the unknown number made her pause.

Pontiac, Indiana

The color drained from her face as she stared at her phone. Who would be calling her from Pontiac? She hesitantly answered the phone, ignoring Ethan's obvious annoyance at the interruption.

"Hello?"

"Thank God, Beatrice. What the hell have you been doing? You sound out of breath...Actually, don't answer that. What the fuck is happening with everyone?"

Pure, unadulterated rage filled her senses. Though preferable to mourning Dean, it still wasn't healthy. Whoever this imposter Dean was on the other line, she'd make him pay.

"Listen here, motherfucker. I don't know how you got this number, or why you're trying to fuck with me, but I swear on all that is good and holy, if you try to contact me again, I will fuck you up. Do you understand me?"

"But-"

Beatrice didn't bother listening to the man on the other end of the phone. Though his voice was a spot-on impersonation of her brother, she knew better. Dean was never coming back.

She turned back to Ethan, who was watching her intently.

"Shall we?"

* * *

A very inebriated Cassidy once again sat at Bobby's table, following her alcohol run. Thank god for drive thru liquor stores. Her brain felt fuzzy and everything felt far away. It was how she wanted to feel these days. Taking another swig of the hunter's helper, Cassidy's phone started to ring. She glanced down at it, taking a few seconds to comprehend that it was ringing. Slowly, she reached for it and brought it to her ear. She answered it, her words slurring. "What?"

"Hey-"

Before the person could get another word in, she grumbled, "What is it?"

"Good god! What is wrong with you people? It's Dean."

"DEEEEAAAANNN!" Cassidy took another swig of alcohol. "How's being dead?"

"Cassidy, put Bobby on the phone. Now."

"Why don't you want to talk to me, Dead Dean?"

"Bobby. I need to talk to Bobby."

Cassidy's brow furrowed. "Dead Dean is such a dick." Pressing the end call button on her phone, she downed what was left in the bottle and slammed her phone on the table.

* * *

"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean hissed slamming the phone. He rubbed his temples and shook his head. "Sisters."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So, we just wanted to let you know how this story is going to work. Renny Autumn, Nixdragon, and January Lily will be working on this story together. The first chapter there will be a smidge of writing from each of us. From then on we're gonna switch off chapters. We'll be sure to tell which of us authored the chapter. We're really excited about this venture and we hope you'll be excited to read it!


	2. Chapter 2

Calling All Angels

Chapter 2

By: January Lily

* * *

Nursing a hangover, Cassidy rested on the couch in Bobby's study with the curtains closed and the room as close to pitch black as she could get it. The only thing she wanted was more alcohol to rid herself of the pain, but Bobby had made sure to hide the liquor from her after she passed out. Dammit, she was a grown woman and he had no right hiding it from her.

The doorbell rang. Cassidy groaned and rolled onto her side. "Bobby," she groaned.

But he didn't respond. This was becoming routine with them. It was almost as if he was purposely ignoring her. Rather reluctantly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Her head began to pound even worse. The doorbell rang again. "I'm coming!" Cassidy shouted as she stumbled to the door.

With a frown on her face, Cassidy swung the door open. She quickly did a double take. It looked like Dean. How hungover was she? For a moment, she stood there, shielding her eyes, trying to decide what to do before she slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Cassidy, open the damn door," Dean growled.

She closed her eyes. "I'm just seeing things. Dean's dead. I'm just seeing things. Dean's dead. I'm just seeing things. Dean's dead."

"I'm not dead. I'm right here, Cassidy."

Slowly opening her eyes, Cassidy squinted at the form outside that looked almost exactly like her brother. She shook her head and turned her back. "Bobby! It's for you!" With that, Cassidy went back to Bobby's study to try and forget everything.

From the couch, Cassidy watched Bobby walk toward the front door, muttering to himself. A few moments later, she heard her dead brother's voice arguing with Bobby. Then after that came the sounds of a scuffle. Hallucinations couldn't scuffle, so Cassidy walked into the kitchen to find Dean standing there holding a silver knife in his hand.

"Whoa," Cassidy groaned. She closed her eyes and rubbed them. "Yup, he's still there."

"Of course I'm still here!" Dean groaned. "It's me!"

"Oh no. I'm not falling for _that_ again." That was exactly what the shifter had said to her years ago in St. Louis and she had fallen for it. No sir, not this time.

Dean groaned. "I'm not a shifter, Cassidy."

Cassidy arched her eyebrow.

He groaned again and brought the knife to his arm and sliced into it. "Okay, so you're not a shifter, but there are plenty of other things you could be."

Dean shook his head. "Not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting."

"You're dead, Dean. You don't get a welcome."

"Bobby's already checked for everything else. All that's left is…" Before Dean could say it, Bobby doused Dean in holy water from the flask he kept in his pocket. Dean spluttered for a moment and wiped his face. "I'm not a demon either, you know."

Cassidy looked at Bobby. The older man smiled wryly and responded, "Can't be too careful."

Dean nodded his head before he reached for the towel that hung from the oven door. He wiped his face and his shirt with it before the Winchester siblings and Bobby walked into the study. Dean walked up to Cassidy and hugged her. For a moment, she went rigid. If only he knew what she had been like after his death, he would be disappointed. Dean always expected more of her. She was second oldest. She was second in command. She felt like such a failure. It was supposed to be her job to hold the family together, but she couldn't do it. Honestly, it felt like she couldn't do anything.

They all sat down. Dean noticed Cassidy and Bobby staring at him. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. "If you take a picture it might last longer," Dean said with his familiar smirk. His looks starkly contrasted the last time she had seen him.

"But Dean, how-I just-" Cassidy stammered.

"What she's trying to say Dean is that the last time we saw you, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop…"

"Not to mention that you've been buried for _four_ months."

"I mean, even _if_ you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit you…"

"I know," Dean said knowingly. "I should look like a Thriller reject video."

Cassidy chewed her bottom lip. "What exactly do you remember?" she asked hesitantly.

Dean glanced at his sister. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then he softly responded, "Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it."

Bobby and Cassidy looked at each other. Neither was sure how to respond. But Dean switched the subject. "So, what the hell is going on with everyone? Sam's phone number's not working, Jayden's turned into a banshee, Beatrice was...I'd rather not say, and you-" Dean looked right at Cassidy. "You called me a dick."

"To be fair, mine was probably the most normal response."

"Yeah, normal," Bobby scoffed. "That's why my house suddenly became a liquor store."

Cassidy raked her fingers through her hairs and tried to avoid Dean's gaze. Dean glanced around the room and found all the bottles stacked and strewn over the room. " _You_ Cassidy? _You_? You hated it when Dad drank. You hated it when anyone drank. So, you can imagine my surprise to find that you turned to drinking your sorrows."

"You weren't here, Dean," Cassidy said, narrowing her eyes. "You don't know what it was like, losing you. Nothing was the same after. Nothing."

"No, but it was supposed to be your job to hold everything together."

Cassidy looked Dean right in the eye and shook her head. "You sound just like Dad. No wonder I turned to drinking." With that, Cassidy swiftly turned on her heel and marched out the front door. The sun made her head hurt, given the hangover, but right now, it was better than staying in that damn house. She knew she had effed up, she didn't need to be reminded of it.

Cassidy marched herself to the old tire swing they used to play on as kids. She sat down on it and slowly twirled back and forth. There were so many memories associated with this old tire swing. It was here that Dean pushed them a little too hard and Jayden fell off and broke her wrist. It was here Beatrice had kissed the boy from two houses over. It was here Cassidy had spent hours swinging alone. It was here all the Winchester siblings had watched John leave them to go off on a hunt while they all got left behind.

She wasn't sure how long she was there, but eventually, Dean walked toward her and leaned against the tree. "Sorry about back there," he apologized. "I just wasn't expecting _that_."

"To be honest, I wasn't either," Cassidy said rather dejectedly. "I didn't expect any of this. Yet here we are."

"Here we are," Dean repeated. He moved and leaned against the tree.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"Like I was telling Bobby, I'm pretty sure one of you made a deal to get me out of hell. So, I'm gonna ask you point blank, Cassidy. Did you make a demon deal to get me topside?" Dean scrutinized his sister closely.

Cassidy chewed her bottom lip as she looked up at her older brother. "Don't get me wrong, I thought about it. But having Bobby watching almost your every move isn't exactly conducive to demon deal making."

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah, that's what Bobby said. Said the longest you've ever been gone is to make a booze run."

"Well, it's the truth."

"One sibling down, three to go."

"Which one are you gonna interrogate next?" Cassidy questioned, rolling her eyes.

Dean folded his arms across his chest and sighed. "Beatrice. Bobby tells me that you know where she's at."

Cassidy glanced up at her brother. "Last time we texted, she said she was in Texas. But you're wasting your time-she's been otherwise _occupied_ lately."

"Exactly. It's gonna take one hell of a deal to get me outta hell. And if she's been doing what I'm pretty sure she's been doing, it makes sense."

"Well, good luck with that then."

Dean walked over and grabbed the chain of the tire swing. He looked directly at his sister. "Uh-uh. You're not getting away _that_ easily. You're coming with me, even if I had to carry you to the truck myself. You always knew how to speak _Beatrice_ better than I did and you're the one she's texting."

Cassidy rolled her eyes. "Do I even have a choice in the matter?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, sure you do. You have the choice to come willingly or the choice to come by force. Either way, it's your choice."

While she didn't want to go on a road trip for Beatrice with Dean, she knew that his threat wasn't empty. He would literally toss her ass into the truck and drive off. He had done it before. Cassidy groaned. "When are we leaving."

"Ten minutes," Dean grinned. "And don't worry. We'll stop at the gas station for some beef jerky on our way out of town."

With that, Dean walked away leaving Cassidy to wonder what the hell she was getting herself into.


	3. Chapter 3

Calling All Angels

Chapter 3

By: Renny Autumn

Beatrice tiptoed out of the hotel room where her latest conquest lay sleeping. She wasn't really big on goodbyes or the awkward "where-is-this-relationship-going" conversations. Besides, Tyson (or was it Dylan...she could never remember), didn't seem like he was the kind of guy that was looking for something more than just a one night stand.

She opened the trunk of her Subaru Impreza and threw her bag inside, trying to avoid looking at the devil's trap she'd inscribed inside. Just because she no longer wanted anything to do with the family business, didn't mean she had to go out unprepared. Beneath the panel of the trunk lay an NRA member's wet dream. Rifles of all shapes and sizes, bullets made of silver, rock salt, and lead, and more knives than the Iron Kitchen were carefully hidden away.

She shook her head to clear it and fired up the car. She'd have to ditch this one soon, but boy she'd miss it. The bluetooth synced perfectly to her phone and played all the classic hits that Dean used to play. This was the only time she'd let herself think about him. Although if Dean were here, he would not approve of the method used to play them. He'd accuse her of "douching them up."

But Dean wasn't around to say those things. And it was all her fault.

Though the rational side of her told her that there was no way she could have prevented Dean from being mauled to death by Hellhounds, she still blamed herself for not finding something in time. She'd let Bela waste their time, and hadn't protected Dean from her.

God, she'd f-ed up.

She drove until she needed gas, which happened to be just outside of Texarkana, TX. She ditched the car and found herself a hotel for the night. She was still pretty weary from her long night of partying-both at the club and the hotel afterwards. She usually didn't stop this early. The loneliness must be getting to her.

She picked up her phone and tried to call Jayden, her middle sister, but the message told her that Jayden's line had been disconnected. She made a silent prayer to whoever was listening to keep Jayden safe. She didn't think the family could take another dead Winchester.

They'd had far too many already.

She tried to think of the last message Jayden had sent her. She'd sent a picture of herself about to jump off a bridge in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee...any way she could risk death.

She looked around the town for something to do and found a hunter's haven: a bar. She really didn't need the alcohol, but she figured that she could at least get a cheeseburger and maybe someone's number.

She sat at the bar, glancing around at the other patrons and noticed an attractive redhead staring at her. His dark green eyes roved up and down her body and she was glad she'd remembered to take a shower and change her bra and underwear before heading over to the bar.

It probably didn't hurt that she was wearing one of her lowest cut shirts and tightest shorts. Her excuse was that even though it wasn't summer anymore, it was still hot in Texas. She ordered the bacon cheeseburger, her "old faithful."

She probably shouldn't have. Every time she ate one, she thought of Dean. Though, to be fair, almost everything made her think of Dean. God, no matter how hard she tried, the same mantra kept repeating in her head.

 _Dean is dead. Your brother is dead. He's never coming back._

Shit, she wasn't going to start crying. Not this early. She turned around in her seat once more and headed straight for the redhead behind her. He seemed a little surprised at her forwardness, but he certainly didn't seem disappointed.

She just needed to lose herself again. Lose the pain with the ecstasy that only sex could bring. And she was certain that he would be capable of at least providing a short respite from that pain. But first she needed a nap, that is, if her nightmares would let her get one.

"I know this seems a little forward, but can I have your number? I'd love to get to know you better later tonight."

She gave him a pointed look that told him exactly what she meant and he hastily checked his pockets for a pen. She dangled the one she'd swiped from the last hotel in front of his face, handing him a small sheet of paper that she'd gotten as well. She was nothing if not prepared.

He hastily scribbled his name and number down on the sheet, nearly tearing a hole in the paper.

He held the paper out to her, but before she could grab it, a hand whipped out in front of hers and snatched it from his hand.

"I'll be taking that. And she'll be calling you...never."

Beatrice's veins turned to ice as she heard the voice. She stared, dumbfounded, as Dean's face crouched closer to hers. What the everloving f- was going on?

The fake Dean yanked her up from the chair and began pulling her out of the bar. Once they were outside, she twisted her arm out of his grip and punched him square in the nose. She reached for her trusty silver knife, tucked in her boots, and held it out at the fake Dean.

"You stay the f- away from me, shifter. I know what you are."

Fake Dean tried to calm her, but she wouldn't listen to any of it.

"Will you relax already? It's me. God, I'm getting sick of people pulling knives on me."

"F- you, liar. My brother is dead. Do your research before you try and mess with me."

With that, she slashed her knife at Fake Dean, aiming straight for the bastard's heart. Suddenly, someone's arms wrapped around her, and she felt her knife get knocked from her hand. Shit. He had friends. She struggled to free herself from the person who was restraining her, when she heard a frantic voice in her ear.

"Geesh, Bea, calm down! It's him. We already tried everything. He's not a shifter, or a demon."

Cassidy? Here? Last Beatrice knew, Cassidy was waist deep in a liquor store's worth of booze. And suddenly she was sober and surprisingly strong.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same question."

Dean had his "neutral face of disapproval" on, but before Bea could sass him, Cassidy butted in.

"You should be asking _who_ she was doing here."

Both Dean and Beatrice sent Cassidy steely glares, but she merely shrugged. It wasn't the first time she'd mouthed off and gotten herself into trouble. Dean began dragging the two of them toward the car, a douchey-looking mustang (the girls had lost a bet with Sam, so he'd taken Baby).

Bea pulled herself from Dean's grip, and shook her head.

"No. I'm done. I can't go back to hunting. I like what I'm doing now."

"What, whoring up and down the south?"

Beatrice sent Cassidy another death glare before responding.

"I like being free. No responsibilities, no worries, and best of all, no monsters."

Dean broke open the trunk of the Impreza she'd been driving, which Dean had parked the mustang beside. Well, that explained how they'd found her so easily.

"Oh, really?"

Beatrice crossed her arms in a pout. She knew she'd been caught. Once a hunter, always a hunter. The only way to get out of this business was to die. Beatrice glanced at Dean before shaking her head. I guess even dying didn't cut it.

"Bea, I'm gonna ask you the same question I asked Cass. Did you make a deal to spring me from the pit?"

"Are you crazy? As soon as you came back you'd kick my ass. It might have crossed my mind, but there's no way I'd be that reckless."

Dean pursed his lips, his frustration growing. Well, that was two sisters down, one to go. Well, two if you counted Sam. With that long hair of his...Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts. Either way, he needed Beatrice's help if they were gonna find Jayden.

"Bea, we're taking you with us. We have to find Jayden. And then we're going after Sam."

Beatrice made a lemonade face, and sighed in resignation.

"Fine. But we're stopping in Nashville."


	4. Chapter 4

Calling All Angels

Chapter 4

By: Nixdragon

Jayden's next thrill was to buy a motorcycle.

To anyone else it would have seemed a step-down but after decades of knowing that everything they needed to kill monsters was locked in the trunk, buying a vehicle with no storage space and no protective chassis to surround her… It had been enough to make her hesitate for the month she'd spent on her own.

She still wasn't sure why she'd followed Sam in the first place. Some look she'd caught in his eye. Some look haunting her from when Dean had made that deal. She wondered sometimes if Bea and Cass had really absorbed that one day when Sam had been the dead brother-had had time to before they were threatened with Dean's loss instead. All she remembered was Dean finding her in the Impala, gearing up to go out in a blaze of glory and vengeance and asking her to do him a favor first.

The motorcycle didn't seem too bad, now that she thought about it.

And you had to wear long sleeves and pants to ride a motorcycle so no one could guess she was now a walking weapons locker. It was a good workout, too-all the weight she had on her at any given time.

Jayden thought of this as a knife strapped to her forearm dug into her forehead. She was resting her eyes, head, and arms lying across the handlebars as she waited for the local electronics store to open. The bike was finally cooling off from the ride over and she was debating starting it up again when she heard the click of locks

Twenty-five minutes of resting-bitch-face later Jayden was back on the motorcycle and realizing that she had nowhere to throw her trash. She stomped back into the store, slammed the box and instructions into the bathroom garbage with a force that made the tiny 5'1" store clerk squeak in terror and stormed out again to rev up her motorcycle.

The brand new phone, still updating and a little overwhelmed by Jayden's 32 missed calls and 54 text messages, was tossed ignored into Jayden's backpack.

Jayden roared off down the street, slamming down the faceguard of a helmet with a pattern of pastel skulls meant to look like flowers from far away.

It was time to get some f***ing breakfast.

…

Jayden sat in a cafe, glaring at her phone over a croissant and some weird herbal tea, mind debating what must have happened if Cass and Bea were both trying to call her.

Was Bobby dead? Maybe Cass or Bea was dead and one of them was using both phones to try to get through. Maybe they'd found out Sam was making out with demons. Maybe… Did she know anyone else who could be dead? Or after her? Maybe somebody new was after her. That made sense.

Oh, and she'd just spent two days without a phone, ignoring their calls in a world where people made deals with demons to get their dead brothers back-not that she'd ever considered such a thing.

Jayden sent a text to Bea and then copied it to send to Cass.

" _I'm alive. Eff off. Off you should eff."_

She considered elaborating but caffeine was more appealing.

By the time she'd finished her breakfast, she'd forgotten the whole thing. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, put her dishes in the bin, and stomped outside to her new bike. She stopped then, considering it.

It really was the most inconvenient thing. Maybe she should get a sidecar. Then she could toss all her things inside instead of living out of a backpack and occasional trips to break into Bobby's house to sneak Cassidy's clothes. Maybe she could make Sam ride in it. That would be _amazing_.

"Nice bike. New?"

Oh, damn it. A curious man.

"Mmm."

"Not very practical is it though. Not for a hunter, at least."

Jayden felt her throat constrict. She knew that voice. She knew no demon or whatever would ever dream that a person would reveal they were alive this way. She knew that Cass and Bea wouldn't have messaged her about a fake-they would have just killed it.

"Sam's up north. I can take you to his hotel."

"That's great. And what about you?" He gripped her by the shoulder and turned her roughly around. "You don't seem surprised." He growled.

Jayden, fighting off tears, refused to look up. "Meh. I've had dead brothers before. They always pop up eventually."

"Gee, Jayden. You sure know how to make a guy feel loved."

"F*** you." Jayden finally felt something-four months worth of anger. She shoved him back a half step. "You… you just… you didn't even… And then you… F*** you, Dean."

"Woah, Woah, woah." Dean held up his hands a backed out of reach, getting pissed himself. "You're mad I'm back?"

"I'm still mad you fricking died in the first place but you're not supposed to be mad at the fricking dead so I don't know, it's been… Everything fell apart without you, Dean. I thought it would be like when Dad died. But it wasn't. And you just…You didn't even try to stay with us."

Jayden dissolved into angry tears and fought off the urge to kick her motorcycle over.

"Yeah? Well, can I say something?"

"No. Let's go find freaking Sam."

"Jayden." Jayden turned to find her sisters.

"What?"

"Well, both of us chose to be angry at him _before_ discovering it was actually him so…" Bea rolled her eyes.

"Bea pulled a knife on him," Cassidy added.

Jayden scowled. "You're always the one who gets to pull knives on people." She clambered onto the motorcycle. "So, family reunion time?" She asked.

"Family reunion." Dean agreed.

Jayden swallowed hard as they walked away, heading off to their own vehicle. She pulled out her phone again, entering a number for a hunter buddy.

' _Find me something to kill. Near Illinois please.'_

She could take them to Sam.

But hell if she was gonna hang around for the s***storm that would explode when they got there.


End file.
